


Myrish Lace

by Wreybies



Series: Ser Podrick the Round and Timmor the Red [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bear Love, Because Westeros, Belly Kink, But with knights, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Game of Thrones AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, None of that slow-burn nonsense, Protectiveness, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Sex right out the gate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-19 10:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14235423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wreybies/pseuds/Wreybies
Summary: Winter is upon Westeros and the wars are over.  Brienne of Tarth, now Lady of Evenfall Hall, makes her way home with Podrick.  They stop at Bronzegate along the kingsroad where Pod finds unexpected hospitality; thus, the adventure ensues.Or, the one where Pod finds a cute redhead boyfriend with serious family drama.  ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auroreanrave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/gifts).
  * Inspired by [It's Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075381) by [auroreanrave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/pseuds/auroreanrave). 



> Inspired by a delish little piece by auroreanrave called "It's Magic", hence my gift to him. I appreciated muchly that Podrick was very much Podrick in his story. I hope I've brought the same appreciation for men of all kinds to my offering.

**Timmor**

* * *

    They arrived at Bronzegate a week after the raven gave notice of their coming.When Brienne of Tarth - now Lady of Evenfall Hall - dismounted her horse, it was clear her left leg was injured.She winced but recovered quickly and stood as straight as the leg would allow.Her hair was wild, greasy, and there was a twig in it of which she seemed wholly unaware.They were all ragtag and threadbare. 

Timmor Buckler remained in the rear of the welcoming party.His father, Lord Ralph Buckler, had made it clear, as always - seen and not heard.He was to cede his room to Lady Brienne and remain in one of the servant’s quarters for the few days they were here before moving on to Tarth where Brienne would take charge of Evenfall.That didn’t bother Timmor.He remembered her visiting when he was much younger and she had been kind to him, speaking to him like an adult, not a child.Brienne the Beauty they all said, meaning the opposite.Timmor never thought she was ugly.Kind people aren’t ugly, only mean people, no matter how pretty they might be. 

Lord Buckler led them into the castle.He offered Brienne his arm to help her, but she only looked at the arm in disdain and limped onward.At her side there was a young man in red boiled leather studded with bronze. 

“We will feast you tonight, Lady Brienne.You and your men.”Lord Buckler attempted to recover some pride after Brienne’s refusal to help her. 

“You are too kind, my good Lord Buckler.”Her voice was thin and frayed.“A bath and a bed would be the finest welcome I could imagine.Perhaps on the morrow, when we’ve had a chance to rest and can appreciate your hospitality better.”Her words had finality to them.Polite, but another refusal. 

Lord Buckler pursed his lips and sighed through his nose.“Timmor, be so good as to take Lady Brienne to her room.Have Taia draw a warm tub for her.” 

“Yes, father,” said Timmor.Brienne glanced at him and squinted a bit.Recognition registered there and for a moment her eyes softened and a hint of a smile pulled at one side of her mouth.The castellan took charge of the men who’d accompanied Lady Brienne.There were rooms enough in the castle since the wars.Whole halls lay empty and echoing.Timmor led Lady Brienne through the great hall and up the stairs that led to the tower where his room was. The young man in the red brigandine followed silently.Timmor spotted Taia on the way and bid her to follow along.

He opened the door to his room.Lord Buckler never entered here, not since Timmor had rescued his mother’s effects from the rubbish and used them to decorate the space.She had had a fondness for Myrish tapestries and carpets.And of course, Myrish lace.The rich colors warmed the room. 

Brienne took one look inside and flatly said, “No.” 

Timmor was at a loss.“My lady…” he began.Her companion in the red brigandine shook his head almost imperceptibly in warning. 

Lady Brienne was forever sighing in resignation.She did so now.“Timmor, I don’t mean to be rude.Genuinely.But I won’t be comfortable here.It’s a bit much for me.”She looked over to Taia.“Is there something simpler you can find for me?A bed, a bath, and a fire that doesn’t smoke.No more, no less.”

“Yes, m’lady.”She gave a crisp curtsy.

“Podrick, stay here with Timmor.I’d like nothing better than to sleep alone tonight.”She glanced at Timmor.“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not, my lady.I would be glad of the company.”Timmor looked over to the man in red leather who gave a remarkably wide, friendly grin that transformed his face. 

“That’s everyone sorted, then.Lead the way, Taia.”Brienne limped down the hall without waiting for Taia who had to scuttle to catch up.

Timmor and Podrick - he had a name now - stood in awkward silence for a moment. 

Podrick broke the tension.“Forgive her.She’s accustomed to giving orders.”

It took a second for the meaning to register, and then Timmor said, “She’s quite changed.I knew her when I was little.She came to the castle a few times.She played at swords with me.Father did not approve.” 

Podrick chuckled in his throat.“Brienne isn’t much for approval.”

That made Timmor laugh and he waved Podrick over to the small table by the fire.He poured out two glasses of wine. 

An hour later they were sat on the floor in front of the fire.Podrick had made a mock battlefield on the floor using bits of rushes and chips of stone from the hearth and was telling the tale of their last battle.

“And she’s whacking away at him long after he’s fallen and there’s a roar coming from her.It’s over, mind you.The fighting’s finished but she doesn’t stop.And you don’t want to know what was left of the man.It was horrible.And she’s still roaring and pounding at him.”He had the fire poker in his two hands, demonstrating.“And she finally stops and spits on what’s left of him and yells  ** _who’s an ugly cunt now_**  and drops the sword and stomps off the field.”He was flushed with the story and the wine and his soulful eyes were bright and crinkled at the edges, that huge smile of his taking over, making him forget to be shy. 

Timmor realized he’d been staring at the young man, captivated as much by the man as the story.

“That must have been something to see,”Timmor responded.He could think of nothing better to say, having been caught up in the exuberance of Podrick’s recount. 

“It was terrible, really.Battle sounds romantic after the fact, but while it’s happening you’re scared shitless.”The smile smoothed away from his face and he seemed to retreat into himself.“The smell.Horrid.”

“I bet you were brave,”Timmor poured him more wine. 

“Maybe.I don’t think so, though.”He made a funny face like he’d just admitted something embarrassing.He began pulling at the lacings of his brigandine, which seemed like no mean feat to Timmor.It looked like it restricted his movements. 

“Here, let me help.”He sat behind Podrick and carefully loosened the bindings.Podrick lifted his arms to give him better access.He was a big lad.Wide and deep of chest and shoulder.When the brigandine finally loosened to where Podrick could slip it over his head, he sighed in relief.The muslin shirt underneath was stiff from having been worn for many days.

“Off with the shirt as well.You can’t sleep in that thing.It’s stiff enough to stand on its own in the corner.”The wine had loosened Timmor’s tongue. 

Podrick hesitated and then gave in.Yes, he was a big lad.His shoulders, arms, and chest spoke of heavy training with a sword.His belly spoke of a healthy appetite, large, round, and smooth.There was a huge bruise on his left shoulder, already yellowing.Timmor forgot himself and passed his hand lightly over the bruise. 

“I fell from my horse,” said Podrick.

“Does it hurt much?” asked Timmor.

“Not much now.” 

“You should take advantage of the water while it’s still warm.”Timmor took his hand away, air immediately cooling his palm.He took a pail over to the tub, filled it with the still warm water and hung it from the trammel over the fire to reheat it.“Go on.I’ll see if I can’t find a nightshirt to fit you.”

Timmor headed down the hall to his brother’s old room.He’d been a big, strong lad as well. His father’s pride.Not the reed Timmor was.Timmor knew he was worse than a pale imitation.He was an insult in his father’s eyes.An embarrassment.Not a boy to think of as a future lord.Not him.Timmor quickly rifled through his brother’s wardrobe, afraid of his brother’s shade.A shirt and simple, loose pants for lounging.Yes, these would do.They would fit Podrick.Heat flared across Timmor’s face, and lower down a pull and a longing. 

_Silly fop_ , Timmor thought. _Get a hold of yourself._ _The man’s half dead from travel and battle and here you are thinking indecencies_. 

Timmor slipped back into his room to find Podrick already immersed in the tub by the fire, his head tipped back, lips parted.Timmor assumed he’d fallen asleep.He padded as quietly as he could to lay his brother’s garments on the bed.

“You found something, then?”Podrick asked, startling Timmor.

“Yes.”His hand went to his chest.“I thought you’d fallen asleep.”

“I almost did.Do you have anything to help get the stink off?I must smell something legendary.”Podrick sat up a bit straighter in the tub, a sheepish grin on his face. 

Timmor went to the cupboard and found a bottle of scented oil, a bit of lye soap, and a soft cloth.He handed this to Podrick, careful not to stare, not to look at what was beneath the surface of the water. 

“Soap?” asked Podrick, holding up the pale cream chip. 

Timmor nodded.

“Soap!” Podrick repeated with delight. “Nice,” he said, sniffing the open bottle of oil.He let a splash of the oil hit the water and went to work with the cloth and the soap.

Timmor busied himself with much moving of cups and shifting of books, none of which was necessary, but it at least gave him something to do while Podrick bathed.He poured another glass of wine and downed it in one draught. 

“Pour me another?” asked Podrick from behind him. 

Timmor brought him the filled glass. 

A pained expression came over Podrick as he twisted his bruised shoulder reaching for his back.He looked up at Timmor and slowly held out the cloth, the request clear in his eyes.

_You’re killing me, you great, goofy, handsome man_.

Timmor took the cloth and Podrick leaned forward.Timmor was aggressive with the cloth.Yes, that’s how men are.Aggressive.Until he came to that great bruise.There he was delicate and soft.He lifted Podrick’s arms to scrub beneath.Timmor imagined what his father would think, bathing this man.He would be horsewhipped for sure.He didn’t care. 

   Podrick’s hand was suddenly on Timmor’s, not brushing him away, just resting there.His thumb slipped under Timmor’s palm, making little circles as Timmor gazed at his wide back.Timmor felt Podrick’s great chest expand and contract in deep breaths, the thud of his own heartbeat surely audible out past the castle gates.

“Am I assuming too much, Timmor?”It was almost a whisper.

Timmor swallowed hard before answering.“No,” he said.“You’re not.”

Podrick took Timmor’s hand down across his chest.He reached back, asking for the other hand.Timmor gave it.Podrick pulled him in until Timmor was draped across his shoulders, turning his head, nuzzling and kissing Timmor’s neck.

Timmor sighed, his hands caressing the round expanse of Podrick’s belly, the tips of his fingers grazing below the water.Podrick guiding his hand lower to his cock, the heat of it evident even through the warmth of the water. 

Podrick stood in the tub, the water sheeting off him.He pulled Timmor to him, soaking his clothes.The heavy curve of Podrick’s cock pressed against Timmor whose hand slipped between them to grip it, to stroke it. 

Podrick’s mouth was on Timmor, drowning him, breathing fire into his lungs.The few times Timmor had tumbled a stableboy they either never kissed or were rough and sloppy enough to make him regret trying.Podrick was something altogether different.These were the lover’s kisses Timmor had dreamed so many nights.These were the kisses that made for epic ballads from the age of heroes.Podrick’s hands held Timmor’s head, caressing him, touching his face. 

Timmor pulled back, lightheaded from wine and from this man drinking in his soul.“Wait,” he said.He took the warmed pail of water from the trammel and made sure it wasn’t too hot.He poured it slowly over Podrick to rinse the soap away, lest it irritate his skin.He was mesmerized watching the water pour over Podrick.Podrick’s eyes were dark and smoldering, appreciative of Timmor’s attention. 

“Get out of that tub,” Timmor said breathily when the pail was empty. 

Podrick carefully stepped up and out of the deep tub.Timmor brought him a drying sheet and wrapped him to get the worst of the wet off of him. 

Once dry Podrick dropped the sheet on the floor and gently pushed Timmor to the bed.He plucked at the shell buttons of Timmor’s shirt, slipping it off, tugging at the knot holding his pants up, shucking them off of him. 

   Timmor felt like a child compared to this beautiful man with his big square hands, his warm round belly, his large expressive mouth, his soulful eyes. 

Podrick picked him up like he weighed nothing and laid him on the bed.He urged him up into the middle and lay against him, twining one leg between Timmor’s legs, pressing his cock against Timmor’s thigh, taking Timmor’s cock into his hand. 

For what seemed hours there was only Podrick’s kisses, his gentle hands, his attentions.When he took Timmor into his mouth Timmor nearly cried.Podrick seemed to know his body like a beloved book.He knew the chapters of his sex by heart.He lingered over the phrases of pleasure until Timmor felt the room spin away beneath him.When Podrick’s hand slipped further back, his eyes questioning if Timmor would be willing, Timmor reached for the oil and made himself ready.Podrick hooked Timmor’s legs with his arms, lifting him, settling him onto the beautiful length of cock, letting Timmor breathe through the initial discomfort. 

Podrick was a prince of patience, bringing Timmor to the edge of bliss then easing off, again and again.He lay against Timmor now with his full weight and some part of Timmor’s mind, a part that wordlessly remembered the comfort of the womb, was acknowledged.Tears streamed from the corners of Timmor’s eyes. 

Podrick slowed.“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Don’t stop.I’m fine.By the gods, don’t stop.” 

Podrick crushed him in a kiss that threatened to devour Timmor and the beautiful warmth of this man, on him, in him, pushed him over into ecstasy, Podrick’s own moan of bliss echoing into Timmor’s lungs.The two shook and spasmed together and Timmor imagined that as Podrick drank in his kisses, so too he filled Timmor with his seed, and they became one.When the storm had passed and their breath had slowed, Podrick cradled Timmor into his arms, curling around him.Timmor slept more soundly than ever in his life.  

* * *

The party remained for two more nights.During the day, Timmor and Podrick sparred with wooden swords in the practice yard, a thing Timmor never did.Podrick was serious and stoic in his instruction, Lady Brienne nodding with clipped approval, shouting the odd instruction to hold the shield up, close his guard, plant his feet squarely.Timmor only became more besotted at the care being shown to him.At night, Podrick took him to lands of pleasure that made tales of Asshai and its sorcerers pale into nothingness. 

On the morning of the fourth day, Podrick and Timmor kissed their goodbyes before heading down to the castle yard where the retinue was fitting the horses to leave.

As they entered the yard, Lady Brienne fixed them with a hard stare and then regarded Lord Buckler. 

“I thank you, my good Lord Buckler, for your hospitality.You and your son.He will make a fine lord when his time comes,” said Brienne.

“We’ve had word.His brother lives and is returning,”Lord Buckler said with a relief that clearly had nothing to do with the news regarding his elder son, and was everything to do with having narrowly avoided the fate of Timmor becoming lord of Bronzegate. 

“Then what of the boy?” asked Brienne, an edge to her voice.

“I’m sure he’ll find something to do here in the castle, in his brother’s service.”The tone of dismissal was acrid.

Brienne’s eyes crystalized.They became sparkling blue ice.Her sense of knightly honor had been offended.“So he has no place here?”

Lord Buckler was annoyed at being made to address the matter so bluntly.“Lady Brienne, he was ever his mother’s son.Soft.Winter is upon us and…”

Brienne cut him off with a tongue made of Valyrian steel.“Send him to me.I am Lady of Evenfall now.If he has no place here, foster him to me.He is old for it, but when winter is past, I swear by all the gods that I will return him to you a knight any father would be proud of.”The rebuke was obvious and scathing.The yard held its collective breath.Podrick’s eyes were as big as saucers and firmly affixed to the ground. 

Lord Buckler was tongue tied and mute with the shock of it.Finally, he flicked a negligent hand to Timmor as if to say he cared nothing for the outcome.Brienne rolled her eyes to Timmor and asked, “What say you, Timmor?Do you accept my tutelage?I am only a woman, but I will make a knight of you.I swear it.”Her eyes flicked between Podrick and Timmor.“Stranger things have happened,” she said cryptically. 

“Yes. I accept."

Podrick’s smile eclipsed the sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter was originally a one-shot that grew into more than that. I hope you enjoyed and do read on. Comments are always welcome! ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

**Podrick**

* * *

Late.So very late.Lady Brienne would be furious if she found that Timmor had had to wait. 

Podrick had spent the better part of a week preparing rooms for Timmor.A lord’s son was not to be boarded in a simple chamber, no matter that his father had discounted him so coldly.Lady Brienne meant to teach a lesson and her resolve was, as ever, dogged. 

“You know what he likes,” she had said.“Gather whatever you think will suit from anywhere in the castle.”A heavy purse had come tossed his way.“Spend it wisely, but spend it all.Understand?”

There was not much in the way of Myrish items at Evenfall, and in truth Podrick was at a loss in such matters.In the end Samaya, lady’s maid to Brienne, had seen how hopeless he was and took pity.

“I’ve little enough to do seeing to Lady Brienne.We’ll go to the docks tomorrow.There’s to be a ship from Tyrosh.They’ll have goods to buy, you’ll see.”At the dock, the soft-spoken lady’s maid transformed into one of the shrewdest, sharpest tongued hagglers he’d ever come across, and they came away with more than they could carry.Samaya made vague assurances that the new Lady of Evenfall would certainly have many needs and wants in the days to come before winter, thus delivery to the castle was added to the deal at no cost. 

That was two days ago.He’d futzed and rearranged everything at least a dozen times. 

And now he was late to greet Timmor. 

He prayed that perhaps the boat had been waylaid.Rising the last hill, the ship’s masts were as evident as bare sentinel pines.He cursed under his breath and gently squeezed the horse’s flanks with his legs and clicked in his cheek to urge the horse to speed.He tied the horse at a stall and made the rest of the way down on foot.

Timmor’s auburn curls had grown since Podrick had last seen him.He was sitting on a stone embankment, facing toward the water in a green vest with a white shirt underneath, a small burlap bag at his feet. 

“Timmor?” Podrick called to him.

He turned and brushed the hair from his forehead.It had been almost three months since Podrick left Bronzegate, looking over his shoulder at those wonderful green eyes.They lit up for him now and Podrick swelled with joy and relief.He had harbored a silent concern that it would be awkward, that Timmor would have changed or that it had just been a lark. 

“I was beginning to worry,” said Timmor.

“I’m so sorry.I got held up doing…”Podrick stopped, instantly regretting what felt like the beginning of a lie that he had no heart to finish.“No.That’s not true.I was nervous and I dawdled.That’s why I’m late.Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.You’re not the only one who was nervous.”Timmor’s cheeks flushed.

Podrick wanted nothing more than to kiss him there and then.The long curls were fetching on him in a way that seemed more relaxed, less the nervous lad he had met a few months ago.The vest brought out the green of his eyes and there were freckles along his cheeks Podrick didn’t recall seeing before.Perhaps the sun had brought them out during his journey. 

“Is that all you have, the bag?” Podrick asked.

Timmor frowned.“Yes.Just a few books, some clothes and other small things.” 

There was a story there, but this wasn’t the place to ask.Time enough later for those details. 

Podrick took the bag, which was pitifully light, and said, “Shall we go?Evenfall Hall isn’t far.”

Cresting the hill, Podrick turned the horse so that Timmor could see the waters of the port from this elevation. 

“That’s why it’s called the Sapphire Isle,” he said. 

“It’s beautiful,” responded Timmor.

Down into a sunny glenn, Podrick led the horse along the edge of the tree line.Winter was not yet come to Tarth, blessed as it was by its southern climes.Birds sang their sweet, high songs to one another in the treetops and the breeze was warm.Timmor’s light grip on Podrick became an embrace, laying his head on Podrick’s back.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” he said.

Podrick took his right hand and gently kissed the palm, and then again and again.He stopped the horse.

“Tim, you’ve no idea how happy I am that you’re here.I’ve thought of nothing else.”He held Timmor’s arms against him, tightening the embrace, relishing the reunion. 

“Tim?You’ve never called me Tim before.”Podrick could hear the smile in his voice, could feel it against his back.

“I’ve been practicing that for weeks.Did it sound too rehearsed?”Podrick asked.

Timmor laughed and the feel of it was jolly and warm.“Only my mother ever called me Tim.It sounds nice coming from you.It sounds happy.” 

“Lady Brienne is expecting us, Tim, otherwise I would tie this horse to a tree and have my way with you here in this field of flowers and sunshine,” said Podrick.

“And I would let you,” responded Timmor.“But Lady Brienne does not strike me as one to be kept waiting.”

“No, she is not.”

There were so many words Podrick wanted to say, professions of love and admiration.His head swam with emotion.Timmor’s arms wrapped tightly around him, the sun, the birds, the whispering of the trees in the warm breeze, it all came together as a moment of perfect beauty.Podrick held his tongue, afraid that one drop more would ruin the recipe.

“We should get going.”Podrick urged the horse into motion. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Timmor**

* * *

 Evenfall Hall was framed against a dramatic afternoon sky.Its walls of white granite, stark and beautiful, and oddly lonely.Perhaps it was only that Timmor was looking upon it as a new home, a place he did not know.He held to Podrick all the tighter, seeking assurance.

The gate opened for them and a stablehand took charge of the horse.Timmor took his meager belongings and for the first time since Podrick had come to the dock, he felt truly alone. 

“Come on, then,” Podrick’s hand was in the small of his back, strong and insistent.“She’ll be in the great hall.”

Lady Brienne of Tarth still had the ghost of a limp.She wore a tight black coat with silver buttons down the front and pants to match.Her sword was at her side, a silver sash covering the belt. 

She looked like a king.

   “Timmor Buckler, welcome to Evenfall Hall,” she said.

   “My Lady of Evenfall, I thank you.”Timmor clutched his bag to his chest. 

She smiled in satisfaction and gestured to the table where a handsome meal was set.There was a roast and a chicken, vegetables and assorted bread.

“Podrick, take his bag up to his room and then join us.We have much to discuss.Come, Timmor, sit.You are at home.”

Podrick took his bag with a wink and hurried out of the hall.A servant pulled the seat next to Lady Brienne, who sat at the head of the table, and waited for Timmor.He sat and Lady Brienne gestured that the food be served.She poured him a glass of wine with her own hands.

“Was that bag all you brought?” she asked.

“Yes, my lady.Just a few personal items.Some books and other things.”Timmor did not wish to say more, but Brienne was perceptive.

“I take it your departure from Bronzegate was less than amicable.You weren’t allowed to take anything else,” she said bluntly.

“My lady is very direct,” said Timmor staring at his plate.

“Look at me, Timmor.”She waited until he met her eyes. “That is over now.You are my ward and a lord’s son.You will be treated thusly.”Podrick entered the hall and took a seat, serving himself.Lady Brienne continued.“You will work and train with the master at arms, myself, and Podrick.Daily.You will have one day a week free for yourself to do as you like.Lord Buckler made no mention of an allowance.I assume there is none?”Timmor shook his head, his cheeks flaming in shame.“Never mind that.You will have money in your pocket.Not riches, but you won’t lack for a meal or a pint if you go into town.I will not abide drunkenness or…”She stopped and looked at both Timmor and Podrick until she had their joint attention.“Leave us,” she said to the servants in the room and they silently slipped out of the hall.Podrick put his fork down, looking nervous.

“You will hold your tongues until I am finished.”She glanced at each until they nodded assent.In a low voice she said, “I am not blind to what exists between you.”Podrick opened his mouth and then snapped it shut under the power of Lady Brienne’s stony glare.“I will not abide lies or deceitfulness.”She looked at Timmor directly.“I true knight lives with honor, truth, integrity, and above all, loyalty.Am I right about you and Podrick?”

Her gaze was piercing.Timmor’s eyes flicked to Podrick who was staring at his plate and then back to Lady Brienne.

Timmor wiped away the sweat that suddenly sprung to his upper lip and said, “My lady, I will not begin with lies or deceit.It is true.”

She leaned back in her chair shifting her attention to Podrick who nodded agreement. 

“Thank you for your honesty.That’s a good beginning.”She took a long draught of wine.“Your relationship is your own business until it interferes with your training, then it becomes my business, understand?” 

Timmor and Podrick nodded, stunned, looking each other in the eye.The look on Podrick’s face matched perfectly with the disbelief Timmor felt. 

Brienne sighed.“If Timmor agrees, you may as well move your things into his apartments, Podrick.You are men grown and I won’t have you sneaking around in the dark.”Her face flirted with the idea of a wry grin.

Podrick glanced up at Timmor and seemed a little boy for all his size and strength.

“That would please me greatly, my lady.” Tears came to Timmor’s eyes.He could not imagine how his fate had changed so much in so short a time. 

Across the table from him Podrick’s great smile beamed.“Thank you, my lady,” he said, though his voice was choked with emotion. 

“Discretion,” she said with weight.An entire conversation in one word.Satisfied she had made her point, Lady Brienne pushed her plate away and stood.“Samaya will see to your needs.She can be trusted.Podrick, show him the castle.Tomorrow, when you’ve broken your fast, to the training yard.There’s much work to do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Podrick**

* * *

 

The rampart wall was warm beneath Podrick’s forearms and an iridescent lizard, soaking in the last of the sun, eyed Podrick suspiciously, zipping off down the wall when he reached for it.Amazing that a lizard could invoke so much disapproval with just one eye. 

The sun was low now in a sky painted a riot of blue, purple, orange, and peach. 

“It’s beautiful,” said Timmor.

“It is,” replied Podrick.“On a clear day you can just make out the far coast like a dark blur along the horizon.I wanted you to see it at least once.”

“Are we not allowed up here?” asked Timmor.

“We’re allowed, but I heard Lady Brienne speaking with the master at arms.You’ve a rigorous schedule ahead of you.It won’t be like when we sparred at Bronzegate.That was just for fun.”Podrick turned and leaned his back against the wall, propped by his elbows.

Timmor was staring at his stomach.Podrick rubbed it slowly, a grin pulling one side of his face.

“You’re just being cruel now,” said Timmor, flushing crimson. 

Podrick mocked a pout.“What, has the bloom gone of the rose so quickly?”

“No.”He kicked the wall absently. “You know I can’t resist.”He pulled himself in a strange stance and said, “Discretion.”A fair likeness of Lady Brienne’s voice.

Podrick chuckled.“She means it.She means everything she says.That’s lesson one.She’s quiet usually because she says small talk is mostly lies and gossip and she can’t stand either.She told your father she would make a knight of you.Believe it.I brought you up here because come tomorrow you’ll be dead tired and bruised and sore and you’ll shovel your dinner into your face and then head straight for bed or the maester to beg him for milk of the poppy.”

“That bad?” He’d gone pale.

“You should have started years ago when you were young.It’s criminal that your father didn’t have you trained.”Podrick felt sorry as soon as he said it.“Don’t worry.I was late to start as well.Didn’t have the opportunity, really.” 

“But you’ll be there to help me, yes?”Timmor’s voice was small and almost lost in the late afternoon breeze.

“Of course.But that doesn’t mean I can go easy on you, so don’t be cross with me when I push.I just want you to do well and learn fast.Understand?”Podrick could not help but brush the long curls from Timmor’s face.There was no one here to see, no one to judge. 

“I understand.”

Podrick squeezed his arm.“You haven’t seen your rooms.I tried my best to make them how you would like, but I’m afraid I haven’t got your flair or sense of taste.”

“She gave me apartments, not just a room, did I hear that right earlier?”He asked.

“She did.There are plenty of rooms in the castle and she means to teach your father a lesson.She’s been discounted and misjudged her whole life.She saw the same happening to you and she wasn’t going to have it.She may seem rigid and strict, but she’s fair, honest, and forthright.Trust me when I tell you that it’s an opportunity, so take advantage of it.”

“I will, Podrick.I swear it.” 

“Good.”Podrick squeezed his hand.“I wouldn’t want her to send you away when I’ve only just found you.”

* * *

The apartments weren’t lavish, but there were four rooms and two hearths.Podrick felt insecure about where he had placed everything and it all suddenly looked terribly wrong. 

“It’s wonderful, Podrick.Thank you.”Timmor took it all in with an appreciative expression. 

“I didn’t really know where to put things.Don’t feel like you have to leave it all where it is.I put your bag in that small room over there.It’s for storage.”Podrick noticed there was a tray of cold meats, cheese and bread already on the table in the main room, and a flagon of wine.The hearth was blazing away. 

“You will bring your things, yes?”Timmor asked.

“Do you really want me to?”

He came and wrapped his arms around Podrick.Those green eyes flecked with gold shone by the light of the fire.“Don’t be daft.This is like a dream and I don’t want to wake up without you next to me.”

“A dream?I’ll remind you of that tomorrow at this same time and ask you again if you think it’s a dream.”Podrick took Timmor’s head in his hands and kissed him deeply. "By day I serve the Lady of the Sapphire Isle; by night I make love to a lad of fire and emeralds.I could have not a single copper to my name and still I would be the richest man in Westeros."

Timmor rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, that was pretty bad, wasn’t it.”Podrick’s cheeks went warm.

“I’ll forgive you if you take me to that bed and make it up to me.”

“Bargain struck!” 

* * *

Later, as they lay in bed, Timmor curled into Podrick’s side, his hand softly passing over the curve of Pod’s belly, Timmor asked, “Have you ever been with girls, with women?”

“I have,” said Podrick.

“What if you meet a pretty girl who catches your eye?”Timmor’s voice was tremulous. 

Podrick shifted so he could look Timmor in the face.“Do you think I would leave you because someone batted their lashes at me?Is that the man you take me for?”

Timmor shrugged, looking small and scared. 

“Have you any idea how beautiful you are, Tim?Really, do you not know?” 

He shrugged again and his eyes shimmered when he looked at Podrick.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,Tim.No one has ever made me feel like you make me feel.No one has ever lit my fire like you.It’s all I can do to keep from eating you alive in bed.”Podrick tipped Timmor’s chin up when his eyes ducked down in embarrassment.“You have to believe that.”

“You’re so handsome and brave and you’ve seen and done so much.It’s intimidating,”he said.

“As intimidating as taking a lord’s son for my lover, under my lady’s roof?”His smile turned into a chuckle, which spread to Timmor.

“Point taken,” Timmor said.

Podrick drew him in tighter, placing Timmor’s head on his chest.“There are many things I want to say to you, but it’s early days yet and you have much to focus on.We both do, really.Just know that I want to say those things already.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Timmor**

* * *

Boiled leather and ring-mail were impossibly heavy and hot.Timmor was soaked to the bone within the hour, his upper arms burned with the effort of holding the shield as Lady Brienne demanded. 

The lesson was not overcomplicated.Shield up, feet square, block the thrust and attempt a counter thrust.Over and over again.Each time, Brienne admonished him for pulling his shield away and opening his guard at the counter thrust.More times than he could count, when his feet weren’t planted correctly, she pushed him flat on his arse with just a shove of her shield. 

“Up!Shield up!” she cried.

“It’s very heavy,” Timmor felt shame that Podrick had heard his mewl from where he sat to the side.

“Of course it’s heavy,” said Lady Brienne.“It must stop a sword, and not a wooden plaything, but a real sword of steel.Now hold it up.Come at me,” she urged. 

Timmor did and she blocked him easily, throwing him to the side.He was amazed at her strength.Or perhaps it was just his own pitiful weakness.His legs felt like they would buckle underneath him. 

“Podrick, bring him water,” she commanded.

Podrick brought him a cup and said, “Just a bit.If you drink too much you’ll just throw it up in the exertion.”

Lady Brienne nodded confirmation of Podrick’s words.Timmor took the water, grateful more for the opportunity to drop the shield than anything else.

“It’ll just be heavier when you pick it back up,” said Podrick.“Next time, keep it in hand and let me hold the cup.You _must_ strengthen your arm.”Podrick’s voice was stern, but behind it there was concern. 

“All right,” said Lady Brienne.“Again.”She took her stance.

It went on for hours.Sweat poured into Timmor’s eyes, which Podrick wiped away whenever he brought the cup.After what seemed a century, his shoulder both burning and numb at the same time, he suddenly felt nauseated.He dropped the shield and wooden sword and vomited all the water he had drunk.

Lady Brienne set her shield and sword aside and came to him. 

“That’s enough for today,” she said.

“I’m sorry, my lady.I’ll do better,”Timmor wiped his mouth, the nausea not quite abated.

“You will,” she said.“Every day you’ll do better.Your arm needs strengthening as do your legs.The shield feels heavier than it should because you’re not standing well.Too much of the work is in your arms, not enough in your legs.Your lungs need expanding as well.”She turned to Podrick.“When he’s rested, to the staircase.”

“Yes, my lady,” Podrick answered. 

“Make sure he has liniment and have Maester Brun prepare him of milk of the poppy, but only a small amount.” She measured a tiny space between index finger and thumb for emphasis.“We continue again tomorrow, and his head must be clear.”

Lady Brienne left the practice yard.Podrick led Timmor to the armory to store the practice gear.The master at arms was patient as he removed the leathers and said nothing when Podrick finally had to undress him.Timmor felt as though his arms would never work again.

They returned to their rooms in silence, Timmor too exhausted to speak.Samaya was exiting the apartments just as they arrived at the door.

“The water’s quite hot,” she said and curtsied before heading off down the hall.

“That was humiliating,” said Timmor, feeling every bit of it.

“You did fine,” Podrick assured him.

“I threw up.”

“And you will again, so don’t let that be a measure of failure.You just got overheated.”Podrick placed Timmor’s hands on his shoulders so he wouldn’t have to lift them as he slid the shirt off him.He pointed him to a chair, had him sit, and took off his boots and then slipped him out of his pants.He was very sober about it and Timmor was thankful. 

He helped Timmor into the tub and said, “Just soak in the water.I’ll be back in a bit.”

Timmor lay his head back and let the heat of the water penetrate him.It was too hot at first and he broke out in a sweat, but it passed.He wished the tub were bigger so he could immerse himself completely and just float.It didn’t feel like an auspicious start no matter what Podrick said.

Sometime later Podrick returned with a pair of vials in hand, one much smaller than the other. 

“This one is for later.” He held up the small vial. “But this one is for now.”He placed them both on a table and gestured for Timmor to get up out of the tub. 

Timmor stood, feeling shriveled, and let Podrick dry him, which he did with the same sober dispassion as when he’d undressed him.Samaya had found him clothing from around the castle, none of it particularly to his taste, but all of it clean and in good repair.Podrick slipped him into a fresh pair of undergarments and pants and then pointed him back to the chair. 

“Sit,” he said. “This isn’t going to smell very good and it’s going to be uncomfortable, but if you expect to lift your arms tomorrow, I need to rub in liniment.” 

Timmor nodded silent assent.

Podrick took off his own shirt and poured some of the liniment into his hand.It smelled strongly of mint and pepper. 

Timmor gritted his teeth as Podrick went to work on the muscles of his arms and shoulders.He cried out when he got to his shield arm.

“I’m sorry, Tim.I don’t mean to hurt you, but you’ll thank me tomorrow.”Podrick’s face was impassive.“Remember when we first met?” he asked.

“Yes,” Timmor hissed out through the pain.“I was much gentler with you than this.”He winced and pulled air in through his teeth.“And I gave you nice smelling oil.This smells terrible.”

Podrick said nothing but regarded him with loving eyes.He continued to work Timmor over with hands the strength of which Timmor was only now truly appreciating.He left off his shoulders and worked down his arms to his forearms where a knot had formed from gripping the shield too tightly. 

“Gods, that hurts,” Timmor winced.

“When your arms and legs and shoulders are stronger, you’ll be able to hold the shield more lightly with your hand.You won’t get this cramp.”Podrick leaned him forward and worked the muscles of his back.That at least felt more like relief and less like new pain.

“What did Lady Brienne mean about the staircase?” asked Timmor.

“The staircase is for legs and lungs.You’ll see.” He patted Timmor on the back signaling he was finished.“For now, go and rest a bit.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t until Podrick woke him that he realized he’d dozed off.Podrick’s hand was on his cheek.

“Come on, then.Wake up.The staircase awaits.”

It zigzagged down the northern face of the castle to a hidden yard at the bottom with a gate facing the bare cliff. 

“What is this stair for?” he asked Podrick.

“Last resort,” Podrick said gravely.“But for now, down and up ten times.More, if you can.”

Timmor looked down the dizzying length of stair.“Ten times?” he asked.

“More, if you can.”Podrick’s voice brooked no argument.“We go together.This is part of my own routine.”

The way down was easy.The way up was torture.By the third turn, Timmor’s leg muscles screamed with fire.He stopped at a landing at the midway point to catch his breath.

“I can’t go any farther,” he panted.

“You can,” said Podrick.“Take a minute to catch your breath, but only a minute.It’ll be worse if you stop now.”

“Worse?How can it be worse?My lungs are on fire and so are my legs.”Timmor hated how petulant it sounded, but there was no helping it.“How can you do this ten times? 

“Twenty.”

“What?”

“I go up and down twenty times.On a good day I can do twenty-five, and I’m carrying this.”He grabbed his belly and gave it shake. 

That brought a smile to Timmor’s face.

“So this is only _half_ of what you do?”Timmor asked.

“Well, we’ve not finished three yet, so when we get to ten, then yes, half.And you’re thin as a broom handle, so no more complaints.”He pulled Timmor up and they continued their climb.

They made it to nine before Timmor collapsed at the top of the stairs and said, “I can’t.I can’t go anymore, Pod.Please.Leave me be.”

“Good,” said Podrick.“I would have been happy with five.”

“Five?!”

“Yes, but if I told you five you wouldn’t have pushed yourself, would you.”Podrick helped him up.

“That’s underhanded, Pod.”

Podrick laughed.“Perhaps, but you did more than even I thought you could do, which I’m sure is much more than _you_ thought you could do, yes?”

“To be honest, yes,” he admitted.

“Then that was today’s lesson.You can do more than you think you can if you just try.” 

They bathed and ate a good dinner.Podrick poured a small amount of milk of the poppy into his wine, just enough to ease the soreness and help him sleep, Podrick commented. 

Timmor’s head hit the pillow and in the few minutes he remained awake he thought about how exhausted and sore he was, how his muscles ached and felt bruised, and how happy and lucky he was to have Podrick’s warmth at his back, his strong arm wrapped around his chest. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Podrick**

* * *

In truth, he was making it up as he went along.Some of it was what he had learned when he trained in the Red Keep.Some of it what Lady Brienne had shown him.Some, his own invention.Lady Brienne seemed sufficiently pleased with Timmor’s progress that she didn’t question how it happened.

Podrick invented what he called _the stone pull_.A block of granite tied to a long rope, two blocks of wood staked into the ground at either end of the yard at the bottom of the north staircase.He showed Timmor how to brace his feet behind one wood block and pull the granite towards him, go to the other end of the yard and repeat.Back and forth.Timmor’s hands blistered at first and after training with shield and sword he said it was too much to have to pull the stone, but within a fortnight he had worn a groove into the dirt and doggedly increased the number of passes.They broke this training with the stair climb and lifting baskets filled with gravel, crossing the yard over and again. 

At the end of the third week, Lady Brienne was at the top of the stairs when they ascended, panting like overheated dogs.She had called Timmor over and bade him show her his arms, flex his muscles.She inspected him as one would a horse one wished to buy.Podrick half expected her to stick her fingers in his mouth to see his teeth.She merely looked at Podrick, gave a single nod of approval, and waved them to continue.It was the only time she intervened in their training outside of sword and shield.

Podrick was filled with pride, both because of the affirmation from Lady Brienne, and because Timmor had taken so well to the routine.Not to say the first days weren’t abysmal, Timmor in actual tears at night, bruised both in flesh and ego.

But in bed, Podrick felt the change in Timmor’s body.It was subtle, but it was there.He lost the soft lines of a youth’s torso and became lean and defined.His shoulders widened, his chest deepened.

A month into training and the weather was cooling noticeably, but it was still quite warm at midday with the sun high in the sky.It was their free day and Lady Brienne had mentioned a waterfall with a clear pool inland from the castle.It had been a favorite place of hers as a child, secluded and peaceful, and she urged them to enjoy it before the weather cooled overmuch.They followed her directions, east into the interior until coming to a small stream, fording it and then coming to another stream.They rode alongside the second stream as it turned north and the terrain became hilly.Through a pass and there it was.High and white with a beautiful rainbow smear where the water cashed and misted into the pool. 

The stones and boulders around the pool were white marble, streaked with pink and red.The pool was impossibly clear. 

Each dumbstruck by the beauty of the place, they tied the horses nearby with enough slack to graze and quickly stripped and tentatively entered the water.

“Cold!” yelled Timmor.

Podrick waded in, relishing the invigorating sensation and dropped into the water when it was deep enough.Opening his eyes under the water, it was blurry, but as clear as he expected, able to see for quite some distance.He came up, brushing his hair back and sputtering the water from his face.

“Just get in,” he called to Timmor who hadn’t moved from where he’d first stuck his foot in the water. 

Timmor shook his head.

Podrick splashed loudly towards him.

“No! No, no, no…” Timmor called out, but Podrick had him and carried him deeper until they fell into the water together.“You! Are! Horrid!” Timmor yelled when he broke the surface, but there was no anger in it, only shock.

“You’d have spent the entire day standing there on the edge.It’s either in or out, man.It’s marvelous, isn’t it?”Podrick pushed back and floated in the clear cold water. 

They swam and challenged one another to see who could swim the deepest, and then out under the waterfall itself to feel the roar of it in their bones, yelling like madmen, being drowned out by the force of water, laughing hysterically. 

When they were chilled and shivering they made for a huge boulder to sun themselves.The stone was so white it was blinding.Podrick had to shield his eyes to even see Timmor. 

He glowed. 

A mantle of freckles had covered his shoulders since he had come to Evenfall Hall.Freckles over alabaster skin and curls of fire above his sex.Podrick felt his own sex respond and become heavy. 

Timmor must have felt his eyes.He squinted at Podrick.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.I’m just happy.”Podrick lay back again, reaching to lace his fingers with Timmor’s. 

“Me too,” said Timmor.

Seconds passed.Podrick’s heart raced.It was now or never.

“I love you, Tim.”

Timmor said nothing.Podrick looked over at him.He was crying silently. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Podrick whispered.

Timmor sniffed loudly.“I do.The last person to say that to me was my mother before she died.She got a coughing sickness and took to bed and never came back out.”He sat up and faced Podrick.“I thought I would never hear those words said to me again.Part of me didn’t want to because they were her last words to me.Does that make sense?”

Podrick nodded.

“I love you, Pod, with all my heart.The day we met at Bronzegate, I was so nervous and felt so silly.You were so strong and galant, and you came in with Lady Brienne and it was like something from a song.”He wiped tears from his face.“And when you took my hand and you were so gentle and good, it was like she was there, my mother, and she was pointing me to you.I know that sounds simple and daft, but that’s how I felt.This past month has been awful and wonderful, painful and healing, and I feel like I have a real family again with you and Lady Brienne.You changed my life.”

Podrick was taken with the speech.“How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Since I arrived and saw you at the port, coming down the hill in your red leathers and grey pants, so handsome.” 

They made love there on the white marble streaked with pink and red, under the open sky, to the sound of a river falling into a pool as clear as glass.They laughed through tears and kissed every inch there was to kiss.Spent, they dozed until the sun started to set and the breeze cooled.They dressed in perfect silence, and rode back to Evenfall Hall to find Lady Brienne waiting for them before the castle gates with a number of other people. 

   “Podrick Payne,” she said in her stoniest voice.“Come here.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Timmor**

* * *

“Podrick Payne, come here.”Lady Brienne’s face was unreadable. 

They dismounted and approached.There were several men with Lady Brienne to include Septon Maikel.

Podrick stopped before Lady Brienne and greeted one of the men.“Ser Davos,” he said.“You look well.”

“ _Lord_ Davos Seaworth,” Lady Brienne corrected, her face a study in disappointment.

“I beg your pardon, my lord.”Podrick bowed slightly in his direction.“Please forgive me.I meant no slight.” 

“Never mind, boy.No harm done.”Lord Seaworth was plain and nondescript.Timmor noticed his left hand looked strange and a vague memory came to mind of his father speaking about this man. 

Lady Brienne cleared her throat and Podrick turned back to her.“My lady, is something the matter.Have I displeased you?”His voice was filled with genuine concern and fear.

“You will go with Septon Maikel,” she said.

“Yes, my lady.”  When no one said anything else or made a move to leave, Podrick asked, “May I know why?”

Lady Brienne closed the space between them, her face changing dramatically.She drew herself up to her full, considerable height and said, “You will stand vigil.Lord Seaworth has come at my behest to confirm knighthood upon you.” 

None of the party was able to maintain the charade of stoicism at that point.Even Lady Brienne broke into a huge grin.Podrick looked as though he might actually collapse and she grabbed his arm to steady him. 

Septon Maikel shuffled forward.“Come lad, the Warrior awaits your contemplation.” 

Podrick looked back at Timmor, his eyes wide in disbelief.Timmor nodded his attention back to the septon and silently mouthed the word _go_.Podrick followed the septon in a daze. 

Lady Brienne took Podrick’s horse and gestured to Timmor. 

“Thank you,” Timmor said.

“For what?” She gave him a curious look.

“For Podrick.” Timmor left the statement open to his lady’s interpretation.

They entered the castle gates and handed the horses off to the stablehand.Lady Brienne wrapped an uncharacteristic arm around Timmor’s shoulder.

“I have something for you too,” she said.

“My lady?”

“Your brother is come to see Podrick knighted and to see how you’ve progressed.I invited him.”

“He’s here?”

“He arrived today from Parchments with Lord Davos.”She seemed to notice his unease at the news.“Trust me.”She squeezed his shoulder. “He will be pleased with you.You are not the boy who arrived a month ago.”

“So the waterfall…?”

“Did you not enjoy it?”

“Very much, my lady.”

“House Tarth is not a rich house at the moment, Timmor, and I’ve little enough to offer, but loyalty and hard work is repaid with whatever coin is at hand.And it was a sure way to get the two of you away from the castle for the day.”

It was the first time Timmor could remember hearing Lady Brienne laugh.

In the great hall there were more people from several houses.Nearly all of the Stormlands was present in one form or another.These were the houses that fought with Lady Brienne, who had accepted her command in the face of war.They were precious few compared to what they once were, the losses of war echoing loudly.Ladies with young sons who would now be lords, their fathers fallen to sword and pike, some to dragon fire. 

Toryen was among them.He stood and seemed hale and whole to look upon. 

“Brother,” said Timmor, walking hesitantly toward him.

* * *

   They drank quietly in front of the hearth of the great hall.Words came in spurts, spaced by large silences.They had never had much to say to one another.Less so now.It was more than Timmor could bare.It was too much like it had been at Bronzegate, walking in the shadows like a mouse trying to avoid the cat’s notice.

“I am tired,” Timmor finally said.“I am off to bed.”

“Wait,” said Toryen.“You cannot…”

Timmor turned on him, his voice was tight with control.“You are in my lady’s house, not father’s.You do not command me here.”

Toryen’s attention was not on Timmor’s face, but his hand.Timmor could not say when he had reached for the pommel of the dagger at his waist.He flicked his eyes around the hall and saw that Lady Brienne’s eyes were on him like an eagle from on high.

Toryen’s voice was apologetic.“Brother, please.I meant only to say that you look well.You look strong.And clearly you are much changed, for the better.I have never seen this spark in you.Please sit.It is only a brother's request, not a command.”

Timmor took his hand from his dagger and slumped back into his chair.Lady Brienne’s eyes left him and returned to her conversation across the hall. 

“I’m sorry,” said Timmor.

“There is no need.You have come into your own, Timmor.Brienne is an uncompromising taskmaster.”

“ _Lady_ Brienne.”

Toryen lifted his glass and lowered his head in assent. 

Timmor sighed heavily.Toryen was being unusually gracious with him.It had to be acknowledged.“My lady is demanding, there is no denying it.She also rewards.”

Toryen looked at him solemnly.“Unlike father, you mean.”

Timmor left it uncommented.It was exactly what he meant, but driving that nail home felt improper and discourteous.Not something Lady Brienne would think of as honorable.He changed the subject.

“Has my lady lodged you well?” he asked.

“Yes, yes.We have been well attended.” 

“Good.I really am tired, and my lady does not abide drinking to excess.”There simply did not feel like more to say.“I’m going to head up.”

“Tomorrow, then.”Toryen lifted his glass again by way of parting and went to join his men.


	8. Chapter 8

**Podrick**

* * *

 

“Your boots, Podrick.”Septon Maikel held out his hand.

Yes, Lady Brienne would insist on every detail.He leaned against the castle outer wall and kicked them off, heel to toe.Septon Maikel took the boots in his shriveled arms and nodded for Podrick to continue. 

“Don’t run, boy.You’re meant to be contrite.”There was no sting in the old man’s words.Who could help but be excited?

Septon Maikel stopped him at the entrance to the sept, took a flagon of water and handed it to Podrick. 

“For your feet and hands,” he said.“Contrite does not mean dirty.” 

Once clean to the septon’s satisfaction, he was gestured to continue in. 

“What do I do?” he asked.

“The custom is to kneel before the Warrior,” he said.“But remember, the Seven are One.Do as your heart commands.I will come for you tomorrow.Do not leave the sept.” 

With that the septon shuffled out and closed the doors. 

Torches were lit inside, but there was still light coming in through the colored glass windows high above. 

 _Do as you heart commands_ , the septon had said.His heart wanted to jump and shout his excitement. 

It was not a large sept, but it was very, very old.House Tarth traced its family back to the first Andals who had crossed the Narrow Sea, bringing with them the Faith of the Seven.The Seven were around him, primitively carved in stone.The Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone, the Warrior, the Smith, the Stranger. 

He sat before the Warrior first, which seemed the most appropriate, the aspect most closely associated with knights.Nothing came to his mind.Did he pray?Did he ask the Warrior for strength?It felt hollow and disconnected and Podrick realized this was not where his heart was telling him to start. 

He moved to the Father, knowing he had no memory of his own father.But the aspect of the Father represented justice.Yes, justice was a better place to start.

His own father was unknown to him, but there had been those in his life who had taught him the meaning of justice, the courage to be fair in the face of those who care only about themselves.If as a knight he must dispense justice, he asked the Father to guide his hand and his heart.

 _Let me be as fair and just as my lady has shown me_. 

He stayed there and let his mind go, thinking back on all the times Brienne had dispensed justice and the courage it took to restrain one’s hand before drawing a sword. 

The other hand of justice is mercy, so Podrick moved to the Mother.His own mother had abandoned him as a child, just a blur in his memory.Again it was Brienne who filled his mind as he looked up at the stone figure.It was hard to think of mercy when thinking of knighthood, but the Mother and the Father are two sides of the same coin. 

 _Let me be merciful, as my lady has shown me_.

The Maiden brought an irrepressible smile to Podrick’s face.She was purity and love and innocence, and all those things were Timmor.He thought of their time in Bronzegate, the months waiting for him to arrive at Evenfall, the thrill of seeing him at the dock, how much Podrick adored feeling Timmor at his back when they rode together, or when he curled around him at night, how much he loved the taste of his kisses, the warmth and tenderness of his touch, the silken feel of his skin.Podrick was taken with arousal.He breathed in deeply to calm himself.Taking care of the arousal in any other way was completely out of the question in this place.

 _Let me be worthy of Timmor’s love_.

Which brought him to the Crone.The lantern she carried was only roughly hewn, and, oddly, this carving of her aspect was not blindfolded, but instead her eyes were uncovered and clear. She was wisdom and Podrick asked her to help him to think ahead to the consequences of his actions.

 _Let me be wise so that I may be honorable_.

The Smith was industry and the mender of broken things, and in truth, Podrick’s closest contact with the Seven.There was a lifetime of learning ahead of him, a lifetime of choices, but the Smith had guided him well, showing him that through work lies success.Never a guaranty, because any blade can crack when quenched, but without the perseverance to forge the blade in the first place you _were_ guaranteed to have nothing in hand.It had been his saving grace with Lady Brienne, and he knew it.He wasn’t the quickest study, he made mistakes, was sometimes thick - and of course one never realizes that until after the fact - but he never stopped trying, never gave up.

Emotion welled in Podrick, the weight of his life flowing through him like a flood, the struggle, the times disaster had almost taken him, the unexpected, unlikely people who had stepped in and mended the path, the Smith’s hand made flesh and bone.Tears became sobs.Podrick placed his hands and forehead at the feet of the Smith.

 _Thank you for your lessons_.

The Stranger was no stranger to him either.Podrick was far from outcast here in Evenfall Hall, but he knew what it meant to be no one and belong nowhere.What it meant to feel untied and loose in the world, at the mercy of those with more power and little concern.

 _Thank you for perspective, for giving me a place from which to see the value of what I have_.

The light was gone from the windows above, only the torches lighting the sept.Podrick returned to the Warrior, ready now to ask for courage. 

* * *

“Come, Podrick.Time to go.”Septon Maikel’s bony hand shook his shoulder.Podrick had no idea how late it had been when he fell asleep, but the light coming through the door spoke of late morning, perhaps even going on noon. 

“My lady will be furious,” he said.

“No, no.Everything is fine, lad.I’ve only just had word that they are ready.Are you?”

“What?”

“Ready.Are you ready?” 

Podrick passed hands over wrinkled shirt and pants, looking back up at the septon in dismay. 

“It is always thus, lad.You were meant to enter the sept in contrition, and to leave it in humility.I would say the effect has been achieved.”The old man gave a gap-toothed smile, trying to lift Podrick, but only symbolically.The man was as frail as a dried twig.

Never had Podrick imagined he would enter into the great hall of Evenfall looking so bedraggled and bed-wrinkled.The gathering inside was dressed in finery and all stood against one wall.Lady Brienne and Lord Davos Seaworth stood alone at the other end.Podrick spotted Timmor, in his green boiled leather studded with bronze, so like the one he himself owned.If only Timmor understood that he wore it so often because he had little else.Lady Brienne had the leather garment made for Timmor because everything in the armory was too large for his slight build.“Just like Podrick’s, but green, if it please my lady,” he had said.And it did please her greatly for Timmor to emulate Podrick.Timmor looked ready to burst with pride as Podrick entered the hall. 

Septon Maikel escorted him in and announced him, “Podrick Payne, my lady.His vigil was sound and I do believe in my heart it was made in good faith and introspection.These old bones have seen many such vigils for your father’s men, and his father before him, and I am glad - _very_ glad - to have lived to see this one.” 

“Podrick Payne,” Lord Davos said in a voice loud enough to carry through the hall.“Outside of Parchments I stopped at an inn to rest my feet and whet my tongue.I heard two men speaking of the battle of the Kingswood.One man said to the other that he had it on good authority from his cousin’s nephew that Brienne of Tarth had taken a pike to the leg and that her squire had magically transformed into a bear to protect his lady.” 

There was soft laughter from the guests in the hall.Smallfolk often told such fanciful tales.It was their way.Podrick flushed at the notion that such a story would be told of him.

“I saw you there the day Lady Brienne did indeed take a pike to the leg.I saw you become a thing of terrible beauty wielding your sword to protect her.Not something I will soon forget.We may not have started in the same side, you and I, but this does not mean that a man fails to take note of a worthy opponent.Kneel.”

Podrick dropped to one knee, then both.Lord Seaworth drew his sword, laying it to Podrick’s right shoulder.

“In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and the innocent.In the name of the Maiden, I charge you to protect all women.In the name of the Smith, I charge you to mend disagreement before taking up arms.In the name of the Crone, I charge you to think well before you act.In the name of the Stranger, I charge you to give aid to those who have none.Will you do as charged, Podrick Payne, honorably, faithfully, and loyally?”

“I will, Lord Davos.”

   The sword came up and over to his left shoulder.  Time moved slowly and Podrick committed to remembering the moment.  Septon Maikel came forward and annointed Podrick’s forehead with oil from seven tiny flasks tied at his waist, uttering words Podrick did not understand.

“Arise, Ser Podrick Payne.Serve your lady well.She prizes loyalty and valor above all other coin, which has ever been her strength.”Lord Davos dropped his voice to carry only to Podrick and Lady Brienne.“You have seen strange times, Pod, and you were there in the thick of it, but remember, minstrels do not immortalize forgettable folk in their songs.”He placed a gentle hand to Podrick's cheek.“I envy you, lad.Be well and be happy.” 

   Lady Brienne beamed what passed for an exuberant smile and clapped a manly hand onto Podrick's shoulder, giving it a shake of congratulations. 

   "Well said, my lord.Well said.Timmor Buckler, come here,” she commanded. 

   Timmor quickly shuffled to where the three stood, his eyes huge, awed at the moment. 

   "Timmor Buckler, will you serve as squire to Ser Podrick Payne?Will you heed his instruction, give him your loyalty and your service as he has done so faithfully for me?"Lady Brienne knew how to give her words weight and solemnity.Naming a squire was typically an informal event, a simple agreement.Lady Brienne was ensconcing his appointment within Podrick's ceremony.

   Timmor took a knee, which again was much more than the moment called for, and yet it seemed perfect and in keeping.

   "My lady, I swear it.My loyalty, my service, my hand and my heart to Ser Podrick Payne, and through him to you, Lady Brienne, the Evenstar." 

_My hand and my heart_.It dawned on Podrick that there was more going on here than met the common eye.It was the closest thing his lady could make happen within her rigid sense of propriety, the closest ceremony and sanction, and she had done it for him and for Timmor. 

   "Ser Podrick Payne, do you accept?" she asked.

   Timmor was looking up at him from bended knee, his cheeks wet and lip trembling.Timmor's back was to the crowd in the great hall, so only he, Lord Davos and Lady Brienne saw. 

   Podrick made to speak but the words choked in his throat.He took a moment to calm himself, cleared his throat and said, "Of course, my lady.And I swear to train him as you trained me, to show him the ways of chivalry, to make good on your promise and make of him a knight when he has proven himself.You honor me, my lady, and it will be my privilege." 

   Timmor stood and it was all Podrick could do to restrain himself from grabbing hold of him in a fierce hug.There would be time enough for that later.

   "We will feast Ser Podrick in celebration of his knighthood.Please say you'll stay, Lord Davos, and join us," she said.

   "My lady is gracious. I would be delighted." 


	9. Chapter 9

**Timmor**

* * *

The moment was magical.Lady Brienne in her fine black coat with silver buttons.Lord Davos, plain, yet oddly perfect for it.Podrick rumpled and still bleary-eyed. 

Taking a knee was excess, but Timmor’s heart was so bursting with pride and admiration for Podrick, he could not help it.He did it for love.

When it was over and he was unsure if he should go, Lady Brienne held his arm to keep him.She begged the guests to sit and the servants to bring in the feast in order to give Podrick time to freshen up and change.Everyone was merry and smiling.

Lady Brienne gestured for them to follow her up the stairs in the back of the great hall that lead to the tower.They passed the rooms Timmor and Podrick shared to a door that led to a room that was empty to Timmor’s knowledge.Lady Brienne unlocked it and stepped inside. 

On the bed was a dismantled suit of armor in blued steel.It was simple, yet clearly of the highest quality.The breast-plate had a curve to fit Podrick, and a white crescent moon in inlaid enamel with the crest of House Payne set into the hollow part of the moon.On the back-piece, a blazing sun, also in inlaid enamel.The sun and the moon of House Tarth and the crest of House Payne together.There were two helmets.A frog-mouthed helm for tourney and a more practical half helm with nose guard. Both had the sun and moon side by side.Silvered ring mail and gauntlets of lobstered blue steel completed the armor.

Podrick’s jaw hung loose.“My lady, I have no words.”

“A thank-you will suffice, Ser Podrick.”She laid a slight emphasis on the newly bestowed title.

“Thank you, my lady.It is beautiful.”

“It is well earned.” Though it was said to Podrick, she looked at Timmor.It was meant for his ear as well. _Loyalty and hard work is repaid with whatever coin is at hand_.

“Come, Timmor.Let us give Lord Davos a chance to show Ser Podrick the finer points of wearing armor.”She gently urged him out. 

In the hall, Lady Brienne stopped Timmor and asked him, “How goes it with your brother?”

“As well as ever, my lady.” 

“It seemed to me last night that it was _you_ who was rather raw with him.”She would not allow him to drop his gaze.

“We have never gotten on, my lady.”

“And you never will if you don’t make an effort, Timmor.I don’t pretend to know the whole of your life, nor will I ask you to recount it, but if he is willing to change and see you differently, then I daresay you must be willing to forgive.Forgiveness is very hard, Timmor.I know.But if for no one else, do it for yourself so that you may lay aside the burden of anger and have more room for what is good.”She nodded to the room they just left to make her point.“He is good to you, yes?”

“My lady,” he said.“He is who I hope to be one day.”

She nodded knowingly.“Good.That is a worthy goal.Believe me when I say that Ser Podrick knows a thing or two about forgiveness.”She gestured for them to walk on.They joined the party of guests in the great hall where Timmor saw his brother sharing drink with his men.When he found a chance to catch his eye, he lifted his glass in greeting.Toryen returned the greeting, but hesitantly, a strange look on his face.One of his men grabbed his attention and he was away with only a slight glance back at Timmor. 

It was no surprise.He had been wickedly sharp with Toryen last night, even reaching for his dagger.His actions and Lady Brienne’s words together made him feel shame. 

   The day passed in a heady blur. 

Lady Brienne had arranged a small tourney outside the main castle gate.Podrick came down with Lord Davos and participated.Two of Lady Brienne’s men aided both Podrick and also Timmor as regards the expectations of a squire in tourney.Podrick ran three lists, but poorly, though everyone cheered him with great enthusiasm regardless.It was his day.  Several ladies, one of them rather older but with high spirits, gave him favors of small handkerchiefs.Timmor thought to himself that Podrick was not a tourney knight, on display like a bauble, in it for the vanity.He saw him as a true knight, humble and ready to fulfill his expectations.When the short tourney was over, Podrick went to the armory to remove and store his new armor.Timmor went back to the great hall where the guests had gathered again.

Toryen made his way through the crowd and sat next to Timmor.“It was a fine day, yes?”

Timmor tensed, then remembered his lady’s words.“It was indeed.I owe you an apology for last night.I behaved unforgivably.”

Toryen smiled a cool, reserved smile.“It was nothing, but thank you for the apology.I take it you’ve been training with Ser Podrick?”

“I have.And with Lady Brienne and the master at arms.It was terrible at first, but now I look forward to it every day.We train in the main yard with the rest of the men in the morning and then there’s a yard at the side of the castle where Ser Podrick and I take exercise in the afternoon.Ser Podrick is ingenious and has created many different things to strengthen arms and legs, chest and lungs.”He was careful to use Podrick’s title. 

“I should like to see that.His efforts are obvious to anyone.”He seemed distracted, but then came back to himself.He poured another glass of wine for himself and for Timmor.

“I shouldn’t.I spoke truly that my lady does not abide drunkenness.”

“Timmor, it is a special day!For you and Ser Podrick both.I am sure she wouldn’t mind you celebrating it with your brother.”He held out the glass insistently. 

Timmor thought again to Lady Brienne’s words and acquiesced.They emptied the flagon and Toryen waved for another from one of the servants.Within less than an hour Timmor’s head was swimming with wine.

“Come, show me where you train,” Toryen requested jovially. 

Timmor led him to the exit of the north staircase, the view down more dizzying than ever, lightheaded with drink.The sky was darkening into night.

“These are the stairs we climb.I can do it fifteen times now.We don’t just climb, mind you.We run the whole way.Podrick can do twenty-five.Ser Podrick, I mean.He can do… yes, he can do twenty-five.”Timmor’s tongue was being disobedient. 

“And the yard?” Toryen asked.

“Down there.At the bottom.”

“I didn’t climb all this way to look at stairs.”He started climbing down alone.Timmor followed, holding to the inside wall for balance, his feet joining in the rebellion started by his tongue. 

In the yard he showed Toryen the different exercises Podrick had created.He was surprised how much the drink weakened him, but his brother made a show of being impressed. 

“And that gate?Where does it go?”

“There’s just a bit of ledge there and then the cliff.It’s not much use unless you have to piss.”Timmor smiled.

“Excellent!Yes, I need a piss just now.Is it open?”He walked towards it.

“I know where the key is hidden,”Timmor sprinted ahead of him, removing the stone in the wall behind which the key was kept.He unlatched the gate and swung it inwards.The sun was almost set, just about to dip below the horizon.He walked out to the ledge and admired the expanse of water.

Timmor turned to find his brother striding towards him, his face a mask of fury. 

A ruse.The drink, the camaraderie, all of it had been a ruse.

Toryen grabbed Timmor by the throat and pinned him to the wall outside the gate.

“That beast you dare call a lady—” He pressed into Timmor’s face, spittle flying. “—has turned you into a _maid!_ Do you think it was lost on me? On _anyone_?That ceremony was blasphemous!”Toryen’s face was as red as raw meat.They shared the same green eyes, but on him, just now in the fading sunlight, they looked poisonous. 

“You will not speak of my lady thus!”The words squeaked from Timmor’s throat. 

Toryen dropped him and Timmor fell to the floor clutching his bruised neck. 

“You are coming with me.This is over,”Toryen spat. 

“I am going nowhere, you clod.I serve Lady Brienne now.” 

“Just her?Are you sure you’re not serving that fat idiot she just made into a knight?”

“He’s not an idiot.He’s…”

“Ah, I see.You _have_ been serving him, haven’t you?Serving him your arse!Get up, filth.Get up, I say!”

“Filth?Yes.When have I ever been anything other to you and father?When have I ever been anything but a blight?Leave me here.Disown me.Wipe your hands of me.I don’t care!Lady Brienne means to make a knight of me, and she has been good to her word.She is honorable.She is fair.And when she discovers what you are doing she will kill you, fool.”

“Oh, I would enjoy giving her the chance.” 

Timmor didn’t see it, he only felt it.The punch hurt much less than he would have expected, but he was only conscious for a fraction of a second after it happened.Perhaps it _did_ hurt more.He wasn’t there to know.


	10. Chapter 10

**Podrick**

* * *

They had wanted to toast him away from the main party.Good men, some knights, most not.It didn’t matter.The men in Lady Brienne’s service drank to him and Timmor both.The other men paid no notice since Timmor had been included in the ceremony, but Lady Brienne’s men were toasting more than just his knighthood.It had not always been this feeling of brotherhood.Two men left Lady Brienne in the early days, refusing to be associated with buggery. Lady Brienne had said, “Good riddance,” and turned her back on them.The rest of the men cared not.  Most of them had fought along side Podrick in the battle of the Kingswood.  “More maidens for us,” they had said in good natured ribbing.Podrick had protected Timmor from the worst of it, though he was not wholly ignorant. 

They toasted him with strong drink and bawdy jests.It was everything the moment should have been.It was perfect. 

And then the cry went out. 

Two guards were dead, a third soon to die. 

The men rushed back to the gathering where they found distress and disorder.Podrick searched in vain for Timmor.He was nowhere.Lady Brienne said she had last seen him with his brother sharing a flagon of wine.Toryen was gone too, as were his men.There was a piece of parchment stabbed into the frame of the castle gate next to one of the dead guards.It was Timmor’s own dagger that held it there.

And it was as though the Night King touched Podrick’s heart with his icy finger.

* * *

In Lady Brienne’s solar, Lord Davos looked up from the parchment in distress.“My ability to read is still…”

“If you’re referring to the beginning, you read correctly.It’s not the first time I’ve been called that.Continue, my lord.”She paced the room, hands clasped together behind her back.Podrick’s chest filled with a blackness, a void, knowing already what was written.

Lord Davos cleared his throat and hesitantly read, “Beast Brienne.You have wu… You have whored my brother to Ser Podrick the Pig and dish… dishonored my house.Sun… Consider the dead men I leave at your gate payment for the grievous insult to my family.I remove Timmor Buckler from your dis… dips… despicable influence.Toryen Buckler.”He laid the parchment on the table and drew back his hand as though it were a serpent.“The lad is deranged.You merely made Timmor his squire.”

There was a pregnant silence in the solar.

Lord Davos looked at Podrick.“There is no truth to this, surely.”

Podrick could not look from the floor.

Lady Brienne fixed Lord Davos with a cold eye.“Do not pretend that you have never known men to seek comfort in one another’s arms, my good lord.Now is not the time for pretense or artifice.I fear for Timmor’s safety.”

“But, but…” he sputtered.

“But what?He broke with guest right.What more is there to say?I am surprised at you, my lord.”

“Toryen is his brother, my lady.If Timmor and Podrick…”

She cut him off.“You of _all_ men to stand in judgement over the circumstance of another’s birth.Do you know why I asked you to be the one to knight Podrick?Because you come from nothing, from Flea Bottom.You were born to be a beggar in the streets of King’s Landing.Because you were a smuggler and a thief before you were knighted.” She stabbed an accusatory finger at his shortened hand.“Because there are those making haste away from my castle at this very moment who would sooner cut out their own tongues than give you your due and call you lord.Because you are a man of your own making, often at dear cost to you and yours.Have I misjudged?Are you not the man I thought you were?”

“You go too far, my lady.”

“I will go further!”Every word a clipped indictment.She breathed loudly through her nose.“You have lost sons in battle, have you not, my lord?”

Lord Davos was angered now.“You know I have, my lady.Why do you ask such a cruel question?”

She pointed at Podrick.“I have no children, nor is it likely I ever will.Podrick is as close to a son as the gods have granted me.”She crossed the room and pulled a scroll down from a bookshelf.She handed it to Lord Davos.Podrick saw two unbroken seals, the three-headed dragon and the dire wolf.

“What is this?” asked Lord Davos.

“It is a royal decree.When my queen asked me what boon I would have for serving her, I asked for this.Podrick is heir to Evenfall Hall, signed and sealed by the queen and the king both.It states he even has the right to take the name Tarth, if he so pleases, and he will be lord of this castle and these lands in the fullness of time.Do you understand now, my lord?Do you see?”

   Podrick had no idea of this.  It stunned him.

Lord Davos bowed his head, anger evaporating into shame.“What would you ask of me, my lady?”

“I ask you to uphold and discharge the very oaths Podrick swore to you just yesterday.”Her voice gentled.“I ask you to be the man I know you are.I ask you to help me rescue Timmor Buckler, to right this wrong.Stand with me—”She placed a hand on his shoulder.“—and my family.”

He breathed in deeply.“Yes, all right.We must leave at once if we hope to catch them before they reach Bronzegate or Haystack Hall.Storm’s End would be pointless.They won’t go there.” 

“I agree.Thank you, my lord.Thank you.”She stuck her head out the door to her solar and bellowed for Samaya.She must have been waiting for the summons because she arrived in seconds. 

“Yes, m’lady.”Podrick looked up, Samaya had been crying.She looked at Podrick and the tears flowed anew. 

Lady Brienne gave instructions for the castellan to take charge of the castle in her absence, Samaya was to see to the guests’ needs, if any remained.She sent Peter from the stables to make all haste to the docks and have the captain of the Ruby, her personal ship, prepare to leave port.She was to have Taia assemble quick provisions from whatever remained of the feast.

All this happened around Podrick like leaves caught in a whirlwind.

The master at arms gathered the men of the castle and Lady Brienne addressed them, explained the situation, which they already knew.All of them, to a man, stepped forward to defend the honor of Evenfall Hall and House Tarth.

“Ser Podrick is our brother, as is Timmor.My lady need only speak.We are hers.”That was Ser Rendal, eldest of the three knights in service to House Tarth.

She thanked them all for their loyalty and took five men with her, the best swords.With Lord Davos’ men, that made twelve, not counting Podrick or Lady Brienne.She bid the remaining men to stand double watch.No man was to stand alone until her return. 

Lord Davos saw to the saddling of the horses.Lady Brienne disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a small satchel.

They rode for the docks, bringing the horses down to the quay.The Ruby was awaiting them, the captain, a man named Jaran, was there, puffy-eyed, but alert. 

“My lady, she’ll take only seven of the horses.There is no room for the others,” he said. 

“Then get me more ships, and get them now.Time is wasting!”she bellowed.

“I understand, my lady.”His men began boarding the horses while Jaran sought the harbormaster. 

Lady Brienne saw that all the men boarding the ship had a place and had one of them inventory the weapons they had brought with them.

   Jaran returned with a heavyset man named Ethon in tow.  The man was red-faced and winded.“My lady, the Summer Sun will take the rest of your horses,” said Ethon.“She is ready to make way.My lady, I must tell you, the men you chase, I believe I saw them.They hired a small vessel and had but two horses with them.The horses are still here.The boat could not take them.I overheard them telling the captain that the young man they carried was passed out from drink.My lady, can you ever forgive me?I did not know.”

“Jeimes,” she called to one of her men.“Follow the harbormaster to the Summer Sun and get the rest of the horses aboard.Stay with them.Take Bodrin as well.Lord Davos.”She waved him to her.“The harbormaster says they left their horses here.”

“That will be to our favor, assuming they don’t have horses waiting on the other side,” he said.

“Let us pray that is the case.”

The harbormaster looked dismayed at Lady Brienne’s failure to acknowledge him.

She set her mouth in a grim line, then said, “You could not have known.Make sure that ship leaves with all haste.We must arrive together.”

“Yes, my lady.Of course, my lady.”The man huffed off down the quay shouting orders. 

“Podrick,” Lady Brienne said.

   He looked at her without responding.

She grabbed him tightly by the arm.Very tightly.He looked down at her hand on his arm.She was beginning to hurt him.

“Podrick, he needs us.He needs _you_.I need you to be _here_ and _now_.Focus.”She was not angry.This was not her angry face or her angry voice.This was something else.This was fear, something Podrick rarely saw in her.It shook him.

“I was away from him, with the men, in the training yard.We were celebrating.”It threatened to take him, the darkness, the pressure in his chest.

“And I told him to make amends with his brother and was happy to see them together.”She swallowed hard before continuing.“There is guilt to spare, Podrick, but it serves no purpose now.”

He nodded understanding and boarded the ship.The men consoled him with assurances that _all would be well_ , and that _he would see_ , and they would _give those men what they had coming_. 

Lady Brienne pointed him to the front of the ship where there was a tiny cabin with an equally tiny bunk.

“I’m assuming you barely slept during your vigil, and if you did, it was on the stone floor.”She took a bottle from the satchel she carried.“Dream wine.You need sleep for what comes tomorrow.”Her voice brooked no argument. 

Podrick drank it, thanked her, and tried to make himself comfortable for the night ahead.

He dreamed of hundreds of ravens circling in the sky overhead.


	11. Chapter 11

**Timmor**

* * *

He awoke and vomited onto a fur rug.

It wasn’t a rug.It was a horse.Whoever had tied him to it at least had the good sense to put him face down, otherwise he’d have choked on it. 

“Gods.You can’t even be a proper captive, can you.Disgusting.”It was Toryen’s voice coming from somewhere to his right.He was in the saddle. 

Timmor lifted his head and instantly regretted it.Vertigo overtook him.Also, it looked like they were passing through the same field where Podrick had stopped the horse the day he arrived.The world faded out again with a strange, granular sensation crawling up his neck and head.

The second time he awoke was on a boat.He was no longer tied up.The moon was high in the night sky.Toryen was sat next him, watching him. 

“Open your mouth and I gut you, understand?I will gut you and throw you overboard.”His voice was chillingly calm and feral. 

Timmor remained silent.The ship was small.Very small.Just a boat, really.No hold to speak of. 

“I understand,”Timmor said.

“Good, good.Then you’re just perverse, not simple.Thank the Seven for small favors.”Toryen tossed him a scrap of bread.“We’re almost there.”

Timmor raised his head above the rail and saw the dark shadow of land.He took the crust of bread from the planks at his feet and chewed it.

“My lady will follow,” he said.

“Let her follow.What have I to fear from a sow and her pig?” 

 _You are mad, and you are dead_ , thought Timmor. _My lady will not gut you; she will cut you in two with a single stroke_.He kept his mouth shut and chewed the bread, imagining Toryen hitting the ground in two separate thuds. Toryen handed him a wineskin - the last thing he wanted - but he took it and drank a sour draught. 

The boat slipped into a thin strip of gravely sand.Toryen pushed Timmor ahead of him out of the boat.Not a single word was exchanged with the captain.

 _If you had anything to do with this, you had best find a new port. Perhaps Slaver’s Bay will be far enough.Perhaps not_.

They climbed the embankment above the small stretch of sand and into the woods.It was dark.Very dark, but Toryen seemed to know where he was going.

* * *

They found a path through the trees and walked until the sky began to fade to gray, then palest blue.A small farmhouse in the distance proved to be empty and tumbledown as they approached.There were many such places now.Fields that were once tilled lay fallow, quickly returning to their natural state of grass and weed.Still, they stopped.

“There is nothing here,” said Timmor.

Toryen remained silent, exchanging a glance with his two men, whose names Timmor did not yet know or care to know, thinking of them only as Ugly and Beard.“Watch him,” was all Toryen said as he exited the near ruin that had once been someone’s home. 

Who had lived here, he wondered.Had they been happy?Wealth was no guaranty of happiness, so perhaps poverty was no guaranty of its absence.Did they love one another?It was little more than a single room, the broken frame of a bed in one corner, the hearth to the other side.He imagined two people curled in the bad, in this hovel, looking at that fire as they fell asleep. 

_Good night, my love._

 _Good night, sweetling_. 

His heart ached for Podrick.His protective presence, his strong arms.He would make short work of these men if he were here. 

Toryen returned dragging a large bag.Inside were crossbows, longbows, bolts, arrows, and swords. 

Beard said, “No food?”

“There was no time to take anything from the castle of swine,” Toryen replied.“We won’t be here long.I expect her to be along shortly.What are you doing?” 

“Making a fire,” Beard responded.

“Idiocy and perversion.Why is this my fate?What have I done?No fire.”He set to stringing the bows and checking and smoothing the fletching on the arrows.“They will have horses.The time we gained before they discovered the dead bodies will be lost when they land.They will ride hard.We must be ready.” 

 _This is the plan?This?Three men in a ruined hovel?_ As much as Timmor detested Toryen at this moment, he pitied him more.This was folly.He sat in a corner near the blackened remains of the hearth.He tried to shrink into that corner.Shrink and shrink and try to disappear.

On the heels of pity came shame.Shame that he wasn’t stronger, that he wanted Podrick to save him rather than save himself, that he was useless because he allowed himself to be, that his brother’s command, no matter how scorned and resented, had power over him.His feeling or hatred about the fact had no effect on the reality of it.

 _I will never be a knight.In that Toryen is correct, if in nothing else_.

Timmor placed his head between his knees and tried to be invisible. 

“Pathetic,” he heard his brother sigh under his breath.

Time passed and also did not pass.It could have been minutes or hours. 

“Do you hear that?” asked Ugly. 

“Yes, be quiet.”Toryen stuck his head around what remained of the back wall.Then further, finally stepping outside for a moment then ducking back in.“They come.” 

Ugly and Beard took up positions opposite windows, crossbows in hand.

“Do nothing,” Toryen whispered.“If they show no sign of stopping, let them pass.” 

 _Not a complete fool after all_.


	12. Chapter 12

**Podrick**

* * *

Ronas and Andren, two of Lord Davos’ men, returned to the main party.

“My lord, south-west of here there is a well worn path that leads to an abandoned farm.The trail was clear through the morning dew in the field. Four people.They made no attempt to cover their tracks.”

“It’s them,” said Lady Brienne.

“Either they’re idiots, my lady, or they are laying a trap,” said Ronas.

“Perhaps both,” replied Lord Davos.“My lady, what say you?”

Lady Brienne thought for a moment.“I agree, my lord.Toryen is overconfident and underestimates me.I will not make his mistake.Ser Randel, Ser Podrick, Andren, and myself will retrace the path you found.Lord Davos, take Ronas and the rest of the men further south and come up around.Leave the horses well behind and come up on foot.Andren, is there a tree line?”

“Yes, my lady, but a large field lies between the line and the farmhouse.It is not ideal.”

“It never is,” she replied.“But I take your point.The four of us will draw their attention along the main path.We will make our presence known.He thinks I am only a stupid woman, so that’s what I will give him.Lord Davos, you and the rest of the men will wait until we arrive - you will hear us, I assure you - then surprise them from behind as best you can.This is not war.We are not here to kill, nor do I wish any man here to lose his life in the attempt.We are here to take back Timmor Buckler alive, whole, and sound.If you can separate him from Toryen and his men, the day is won.”She turned to Podrick.“Do you understand, Ser Podrick Payne?”

His whole name, how strange.

“I do, my lady,” he acquiesced, though he longed for nothing so much as the feel of his sword breaking through the bottom of Toryen’s skull.

* * *

They gave Lord Davos and his men a head start, time to skirt around and take position. 

Ser Randel busied himself with checking the horses’ tack.He gestured to Podrick to help him.Lady Brienne and Andren sat on a felled log and discussed the approach.

“She didn’t mean to speak down to you, lad,” Ser Randel said in a low voice.

Podrick didn’t answer.He didn’t want to answer.In the battle of the Kingswood, he had survived and saved his lady because his focus was tight.He was in his body, not his mind.It had been a strange experience, to be an arm wielding a sword rather than the man wielding the arm.Perhaps that’s what Lord Davos meant.A thing of terrible beauty.How do those two words go together, terrible and beauty?By becoming an arm wielding a sword.

The moment stretched and Ser Randel turned to face him. 

“I know,” Podrick said.“Still…”

“Still nothing, lad.She’s just worried about you.It’s easy to get emotional when it’s personal,” he said.

“ _Ser_ Randel, I said I know.”Podrick lowered his voice, realizing he had raised it.“And when _isn’t_ it personal?”

“That’s just the kind of thing she doesn’t want to hear, _Ser_ Podrick.” 

He continued with the horses, checking what had already been checked.It wasn’t Lady Brienne’s words that bothered him.That was just her way, her manner.There was nothing new there and he didn’t expect knighthood to change that, not really.It was the other news he had learned.The news he had yet to even acknowledge, let alone process.It stood there, in the hall, like someone waiting to be be heard, to be attended.Heir to Evenfall Hall.How long had she had that in mind?Had it been caprice, nothing else coming to mind when the queen spoke to her?No, it had not sounded as such in her solar.It did make sense now that she would want to have him knighted, not that he didn’t feel he deserved it.And the armor.Such armor!When had she made that happen?How?It fit him perfectly, and he was no fool.That armor had been painstakingly made specifically for him.Yes, knight to lord would be more in keeping, more acceptable.Like Lord Davos, though his lady had made it clear that it was still no easy transition, not without its hurdles.Podrick did come from a family of name, no matter how small a branch of that family.At least there was that.To take her name felt uncomfortable.Podrick Tarth?No.Podrick of Tarth.Perhaps.Lord Podrick of Tarth and Timmor Buckler of Evenfall Hall?It sounded absurd.There was no such house in all of Westeros.And it sounded beautiful.But that was in the future.His lady was far from old.He recoiled from the idea of her passing.

“Forgive me, Ser Randel.You are not deserving of such cheek,” Podrick said.

“It is forgotten, Ser Podrick.She cares for you.We all know it.I hope you know it as well.” 

Lady Brienne and Andren came to them, Lady Brienne eyeing Podrick and Ser Randel, aware that something had been exchanged, but she left it alone. 

“Are we ready?” she asked.The question was only slightly loaded.

“Yes, my lady.Ready,” Podrick answered. 

* * *

They entered the field making the most awful farce of a racket.Just as they came within range of arrows, Lady Brienne made an ironically loud fuss over silence and the need to be sure no one was in the farmhouse.Would this actually work?Could Toryen and his men be this insane?Lady Brienne seemed to have judged them so.Podrick followed along until the first arrow flew by.They drew the horses off the path, in the opposite direction to get out of range. 

That’s when he saw them, like strange cows in a field, silently making their way to the rear of the hovel.


	13. Chapter 13

**Timmor**

* * *

“Fool!They know we’re here now,” Toryen hissed at Beard in fury.

“They’re moving away,” it was the mewl of a child.Where had Toryen found these men?They were worse than worthless.It only frightened Timmor more.They were unpredictable and had no discipline.These were the foundations, the fundamentals that Lady Brienne had instilled in him from the first.Without discipline you were just a fool in motley, as likely to die by the very sword you carry as to kill with it.He pictured the three of them, Toryen, Beard, and Ugly, dressed in blue, green and red motley.He almost laughed.Nothing was funny.It wasn’t how he felt.And yet still he felt the giggle bubble up into his chest.

He could see nothing.From where he sat, the open door showed only sky and treetops, the single window only sky.Toryen kneeled low behind the remnants of a table.Beard was opposite the window through which he had just let an arrow fly.Ugly stood opposite the door. 

And then Ugly was gone through the hole in the wall behind him.A pair of arms reached in and snatched him out. 

Toryen spun around at the sound of Ugly dying somewhere behind the farmhouse.Ugly screamed, begged, and then a panicked “No!” turned into a sucking, gurgling noise.

_Battle sounds romantic after the fact…_

Toryen pinned him to the wall, a knife to his neck. 

“What are you doing?” Timmor whispered, the cold steel rasping his neck.

… _but while it’s happening you’re scared shitless._

“She doesn’t get to continue humiliating me and my house.She doesn’t get to have you.She doesn’t get _anything!_ ”Toryen screamed into his face. 

“Toryen Buckler, release your brother!End this madness!”Lady Brienne’s voice boomed from outside. 

“There’s an eighth hell just for you, Brienne of the Swine!”Toryen’s voice was unraveled and edgy.The knife bit closer to Timmor’s throat. 

“Oy,” said an incongruously jovial voice from the hole out which Ugly had disappeared.The tips of two arrows floated into view followed by two bows, then two men.Their hands were bloody, their arrows were pointed at Beard.“Drop the bow and leave, friend.This doesn’t end well for you otherwise.” 

“Stand your ground!” yelled Toryen. 

“Ah, that’s a pity,” said the man who had entered closest to where Toryen crouched over Timmor.He let his arrow fly and it caught Beard in the chest.The second arrow from the other man caught him the neck.Beard whimpered as he went down, pulling hopelessly at the arrows.He was dead before he hit the ground. 

“Away!I will kill him!”Toryen took a second to flip around to Timmor’s other side, the knife never leaving his neck, so that the men could see the danger to Timmor’s life.

“Back away from him.”Lady Brienne was in the doorway, pale as snow, eyes as big as hen’s eggs.“Listen to reason, Toryen.I have no wish to harm you, but I am not leaving here without Timmor.Give him to me and I will forgive you for breaking with guest right.”

“Forgive _me?_ _Me?_ That is rich, you sow.What need have I for the forgiveness of swine wallowing in a pigsty?”

The knife trembled at Timmor’s throat.If these were to be his last breaths, then let them count for something.

“I love him, Toryen,” said Timmor.Tears flowed as the words left his mouth.He did not care.“Why can't you let it be?What does it matter to you?”

“Shut up, filth!It matters to our house!I will not listen to men jibe me about a brother who lays with Ser Podrick the Pig!I will not hear it, I tell you!”

“He’s not a pig.”Timmor saw Lady Brienne take in his words.A mother’s concern in her eyes.“He’s not a pig, Toryen.He’s kind and gentle, loving and loyal and honorable.And if you kill me now—” He raised his voice, praying that Podrick would hear him. “If you kill me now, it changes nothing for you.He loved me, and I him.You will never erase that.”

“Shut up, or I end you!” Spittle flew from Toryen’s mouth, a string of it hung from his chin.

Lady Brienne raised her hands slowly in concession.She waved the men to back out of the room.She stepped slowly out of the doorway, her eyes holding Timmor’s as she turned and walked out.He nodded at her, the only way he could say it was all right to leave, that he understood. 

She was gone and Podrick was a small distance behind her.His face set in a scowl.His hand flicked out and down and a bird appeared to fly into the room.

It was not a bird.It was a dagger.Timmor’s own dagger, and it was stuck some few inches into Toryen’s shoulder. 

Toryen dropped the knife at Timmor’s neck, his eyes wide and mouth slack.

“Now!” yelled Lady Brienne.

The men were in the room and on Toryen, roughly pinning him to the ground.Toryen howled like an animal, guttural, a mix of pain and fury and defeat. 

Lady Brienne stepped into the room, gave her hand, they clasped wrists, and she pulled him away out the door.All of this was slow like syrup on a cold day.Moments passed before her words made any sense.

“Timmor, are you injured?Are you hurt?”his lady asked again.

“I am well, my lady.”He reached to his neck.His fingertips came away bloody.He looked up at her in dismay.

She prodded the area of the wound.“It is not deep.Just the surface.It may scar, but it’s nothing.” 

Podrick was at her side.His hand went to Timmor’s face, his lower lip curled in rage.He stepped past them and into the farmhouse.

“Podrick,” Lady Brienne’s voice was equal parts fear and command.

He walked back out of the house with Timmor’s dagger in hand.He wiped it against his leg to clean the blood from it.“Your dagger,” he said and again returned to the farmhouse.“Bind his legs and hands and someone see to the wound in his shoulder.We are returning him to Bronzegate.” 

Timmor and Lady Brienne exchanged a look of surprise, and a decision happened somewhere behind Lady Brienne’s eyes.“You heard Ser Podrick.Bind him.” 

* * *

They tied Toryen to one of the horses just as he had tied Timmor.He fought, spooking the horse carrying him until it reared and he fell to the ground without benefit of his arms to mitigate the fall.He face was bruised and abraded.They tied him again, more tightly. 

Lord Davos said to him, “Take note, we are returning you to your house alive, but if you wish to keep at this nonsense until you are nothing but pulp, so be it.There are a host of men here from two houses who will swear to your suicide by horse.” This garnered derisive laughter, but Toryen set his jaw and took the humiliation quietly.

Podrick seemed oddly distant.Timmor wanted to hold him, to hug him, to wrap himself in Podrick’s arms and live there forever.Timmor assumed it was because there were so many men around.Too many people.Timmor resolved to be strong and appropriate to the moment. 

They rode until midday, breaking only to water and rest the horses.

Timmor felt he needed to say something, to thank them for risking themselves for him.He started speaking and didn’t know how to stop until Toryen grunted in disgust.

“You will be quiet,” Lady Brienne directed at Toryen, cold as a winter river.To Timmor she said, “Your words are well appreciated, Timmor.This is what loyalty looks like.This is what it means to be family.”

“He is not your family, sow.” 

Podrick calmly got up and walked to him - Toryen looking up at him defiantly - and punched him in the mouth with such force that all were shocked for a moment.His lip was split and blood poured down his chin. 

“My lady asked you to be quiet,” he said.“I don’t know how it goes at Bronzegate, but at Evenfall Hall, when my lady speaks, she is obeyed.”

“Pig!” Toryen yelled at his back as he returned to his seat next to Lady Brienne.Podrick waved away the insult as beneath concern.

“This _is_ your family,” Podrick said, taking his hand.

_Family_.


	14. Chapter 14

**Podrick**

* * *

Toryen Buckler was made to kneel before the gates of Bronzegate, Lady Brienne refusing to enter, demanding that the lord of the castle attend her there.

Lord Buckler was speechless. 

Lady Brienne was not so tongue-tied. 

“He took Timmor from Evenfall Hall by way of subterfuge and broke with guest right, killing three of my men.”Lady Brienne was at her most formal when she was angriest.There were uncountable things Podrick wanted to say to Lord Buckler and Toryen both, but he kept his peace. 

“Why is he bound?What happened to his face?”Lord Buckler attempted to deflect the accusation.

“His injuries are attributable to his resistance during Timmor’s rescue and a fall from a horse.My lord, he threatened the life of your other son, Timmor.The mark you see on his neck is from Toryen’s own blade.”

“It is true, my lord,” added Lord Davos in confirmation.

“That is no son of mine.”It curled off his lip bitterly.“I know what he gets up to.”

“Then I offer you a trade, _my lord_.”The title dropped like it came from the wrong end of a cow.“I will forgive Toryen and House Buckler the offense of breaking with guest right.I will forgo taking this charge to my queen and my king.I return to you your son Toryen, bruised, though I daresay he’ll live.I offer all of this in exchange for Timmor, but no longer as foster.You give up all right, all claim, all _concern—_ ” Again, the word stank of the stable. “—And surrender him forever to me.You just said he is no son of yours, so it would seem I offer you quite the bargain.What say you my lord?” 

“I say I rue the day I let you beyond this gate.Take him.Take him to your den of depravity.I care not.I strip him of his name and all right to these lands.”Lord Buckler hacked up a gob of phlegm and spat it at the ground as punctuation.

“Well, since it’s clear you never intended to honor any of those things in his regard, he has lost nothing.”She turned to the party - which only now Podrick realized were standing alert and at the ready if needs be - and said, “Let us go.We’ve a long ride ahead.” 

“What makes you think I won’t ride you down?”Lord Buckler spat at Lady Brienne as she mounted her horse.

She sighed at his tedium.“You would have taken action already if you had the men, which you do not.Winter is upon us, my lord.Now is not the time to be making new enemies.Tarth lies between you and all trade with Essos.Be wise, my lord.”

She turned her horse and Podrick caught her eye and held it.“Have you something to say, Ser Podrick Payne?”There was a spark in her tone that spoke of permission.

Podrick reached for Timmor to help him mount behind him.“Toryen Buckler,” he said.“Step foot on my lady’s Sapphire Isle and you are forfeit.Understand?”

“You should teach your men to know their place!” Lord Buckler said shrilly.

“It would seem irony is lost on you, my lord,”Lady Brienne responded in chill disdain.She leaned her horse into a trot.Podrick waited until Timmor took hold of him, hearing the scowl from Lord Buckler at the insult, and pressed his horse forward, but at a slower pace, all the better to let Lord Buckler remember the sight of Timmor leaving Bronzegate once and for all.

* * *

They were well and gone from Bronzegate, in a field of golden grass rippling in the breeze.Lady Brienne chose to ride until night in order to reach the ships and leave at once.Lord Buckler had little to offer in the way of retaliation, but she wanted off these shores and back onto Tarth as quickly as possible.The men agreed wholeheartedly. 

Podrick was filled with many emotions.Relief at Timmor’s return rode high in his heart and mind, but behind it was a satisfaction, as though a test had been passed.Not as regards his prowess or stature as a knight, though that was certainly there too.It was not something that could not easily be named.It was made of this brotherhood of men to which he belonged, who had pledged and given their service in his time of need, and to the deep pride he felt in serving a lady so truly worthy as Lady Brienne. 

Lord Davos brought his horse alongside Podrick.It was clear he wanted to say something, but the words had not formed for him yet.Podrick understood that feeling.He let Lord Davos take the time he needed.

“When I knighted you, I told you that minstrels do not sing about forgettable folk,” he said.

“You did say that, my lord.Indeed.” Podrick looked over at him, saw him regarding him and Timmor both.

“You are not someone who will be forgotten, Ser Podrick.And you are certainly not a pig.Don’t ever let that kind of talk get under your skin.”

From behind him Timmor said, “No, he’s not.He’s perfect.”

Podrick blushed and goofed the moment by saying, “I am a bit round, though.There’s no point in denying it.”

Timmor laughed and so did Lord Davos.“Ser Podrick the Round!” he yelled.

“ ** _Ser Podrick the Round!_** ” came the resounding response from all.

“And Timmor the Red!” yelled Podrick.

“ ** _And Timmor the Red!_** ” came the reply.


End file.
